My Little Firefly
by juungi
Summary: Ghouls have no fairy tales with happy endings. Ayato x OC
1. one

**Author's Note:** Started this in the wake of TG ending with no word on the sequel, thankfully we're getting TG:re now, but I needed something to soothe my aching soul in the meantime. So highly likely to end up being AU depending on what happens in TG:re. **This takes place during and after the ending of the first TG series (manga) and will contain spoilers up until that point.** The spoilers are relatively vague to be honest, but they are there. I hope you enjoy!

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><p><em>no one thinks they are to blame<em>

_why can't we see_

_that when we bleed we bleed the same_

**chapter one**

Dispatching investigators has become something of a morbid hobby—a source of entertainment for him. If that shitty older sister of his would happen to realize what he is doing, she might claim that he is trying to exact revenge. But the fact is that he simply hates investigators more than he hates humans, and since all of the investigators are also humans, it seems a natural consequence that they should die.

"The rabbit went this way!"

Voices are echoing through the streets. In the darkness with only the light of the crescent moon as his witness, he leans his back against the side of an abandoned building. Each breath is raspy and short as he presses his hand against the gaping wound on his abdomen. Behind that black rabbit's mask, he is grimacing as he hobbles further into the darkness.

The investigators always travel in pairs, and he has reasoned that taking out two of them simultaneously is no great challenge. Certainly more skilled teams have been sent out after him lately. They are amping up their force to try to exterminate the nuisance crawling around the 7th ward.

It was his miscalculation thinking they wouldn't send _three_ pairs. Such an excessive force when they are being pressured elsewhere was unexpected. In their last meeting, Tatara had made a point of noting that they—Aogiri, that is—were turning their sights toward the 20th ward.

For whatever reason, the CCG have decided to make a concerted effort to rid themselves of the "black rabbit." He doesn't mind the challenge, except that it has been an excruciating drain on his endurance. His ukaku doesn't allot him much room for drawn out fights. It is all about seizing the weakness in his opponents to kill them quickly and efficiently.

Regardless of his inner lament, the wound inflicted is only severe enough for him to concede to temporarily backing out of the battle. Once he recovers, he will be better prepared to deal with his newest prey.

At least that's how he egotistically reasons things in his head. The fact is that his sight has started to grow bleary. He is fortunate for his natural healing ability but it is struggling to compensate for the large blow that he has been dealt. Blood is gushing out between his fingers as he holds his hand to the wound, trying to stanch the bleeding. There is a rhythmic _drip-drop_ as he takes one step after the other, leaving a trail in his wake—one the investigators will inevitably discover and follow.

His boots are scraping against the concrete as he starts limping down an adjacent side street. The neighborhood is quiet. He languidly scans the area, looking for anywhere he can take refuge but he is coming up empty.

Something wet splashes against his cheek suddenly. One drop and then another. Perhaps he has some luck after all. It is starting to rain, and the rain will do him a favor in washing away the trail that has been left behind.

"There's blood here! He must be nearby!"

_Stupid trash..._

If he could just... eat a little bit... he might find the strength to—

"Rabbit...?"

The sound of someone's voice startles him and he suddenly stops. Peering through the eye holes in his mask, he feels his excitement peak as he spots the silhouette of a human. It must be her house that she's standing in front of. A young woman...? It seems like she's wearing a nightgown. Maybe the commotion woke her, but he's not fussed about the details.

All Ayato sees is a potential meal.

His fingers crack as he curls them into a tight fist. Indeed, if he were to run into the investigators now he would be in trouble, but dealing with a civilian is another matter. Humans are so weak and fragile. They break so easily when you _barely_ touch them.

One tentative step and then another, and he feels almost euphoric as he inches closer to her. The girl shows no sign of retreat. Perhaps this is some indication of how limitless his luck must be.

"Are you injured...?" There is a hint of concern in her voice, but he can't tell how sincere the question might be. It's impossible to make out her features in this darkness. Yet Ayato knows well just how fickle the emotions of a human can be. The moment she realizes he's a ghoul, she'll be screeching and crying for help.

"This way!" The voices of the investigators echo in the distance, but they have grown decidedly closer than the were before. Too close—he only has a minute, if that, to seize his prey and either escape or confront them head-on.

Yet just as he is thinking that, the girl darts toward him—her bare feet slapping against the ground as she pads closer. "Hurry," she whispers urgently, seizing him by the arm. Suddenly he is forcefully dragged along behind her as she pulls him toward the front door of the squatty, dilapidated building that they're standing in front of.

Regardless of whatever misunderstanding this human must be making to want to try to shelter him, Ayato makes no outward show of rejecting her hospitality. He ducks into the building behind her. It's even darker inside. In fact it's difficult to see anything since it's black as pitch, but his eyes adjust far more readily than a human's. In fact, because his kakugan is activated, there is an eerie red glow emanating from the eye holes of the rabbit mask that he is wearing.

Suddenly a light flips on from a flashlight, which suddenly shines toward his face. He's forced to turn his head away with a pained hiss, and just as quickly he feels icy cold fingers brush against his jaw as the mask is lifted away. His movements are so sluggish because of his injury that it's all he can do to take a stumbling step back to put some distance between himself and the girl, readying to lunge at her so he can silence her before she can vocally express what she has surely realized by now.

Yet when the flashlight pans away and he's able to squint over toward her, he realizes that those doe-like eyes are just staring at him with a hint of fascination rather than repulsion. In fact, she rather quickly seems to digest the reality of _what_ exactly she just saved.

Ayato has no intention of letting this opportunity slip by, however. If she doesn't want to scream for help when she has the chance, that's her prerogative. He's not about to become some kind of human sympathizer and spare her.

He lurches forward with what strength he has, pinning this flimsy, breakable human body beneath him. The fact that she doesn't mount any resistance pleases him—all the easier to make this meal swift and clean. His lips peel back as he leans down toward her neck in an almost animalistic instinct to go for her jugular first.

"Are you going to eat me?"

That question gives him pause when it should not. It doesn't matter what a human says. Humans are trash—they should just _die_. Why is he listening?

"You should turn off the flashlight first if you're going to. It's shining out the window. Those people that were chasing you might notice."

Slowly he straightens himself upright, lifting himself away from the girl's neck. Ayato stares quizzically down at his prey. She gazes back vacantly, as though she is completely numb to her impending death. Eventually he cranes his neck, looking for the flashlight that she referred to. He stretches his hand toward it. His palm is slick with his own blood, and it proves almost too slippery to wield the object. Eventually he manages to turn the beam toward her face.

She squints under the light, but now he can finally see her properly. A young woman, probably a little older than his sister. Her skin is pale and she has freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her pointed nose. Her hair—a ruddy brown—is splayed out against the floor beneath her, cut short so that it most likely reaches just past her chin normally. This woman is the very vision of plain and ordinary. It's almost all the more boring that she isn't the least bit attractive.

Growing weary of the wait for his meal, he flips the switch off and tosses the flashlight to the side. It hits the floor with an audible _thunk_, and now that the area is bathed in darkness again, he is free to enjoy his meal without interruption.

"If possible... could you not kill me?"

Of course she would plead for her life. He feels mildly amused that she's ignorant enough to assume that _anyone_ would listen to her plea, least of all a ghoul. "What if I say no?" There is no clear benefit to pursuing this conversation but somehow, he doesn't feel particularly rushed. The wound on his side is gradually closing up, and the rain should be erasing his trail by now. Being inside of this house, he should be safe.

"That would be a bit of a problem for me... could we come to a compromise?"

A compromise? With a human girl? His whole body vibrates with silent laughter as he stares down at her. What position does she think she is in to make such a proposal? He doesn't have to listen to anything she says. He can just eat her.

"You can take my arm but leave the rest."

Despite being mildly amused at this conversation, Ayato decides it's time to cut it short. Humans are garbage. So he reaches toward her and clamps his blood-covered hand over her neck. His fingers dig into her skin and he can hear the sound of her desperately trying to draw a breath. If he presses just a little harder he can completely crush her windpipe and—

"Aki-nee?"

The sound of a child's voice cuts through the darkness, and it startles Ayato—especially because it's accompanied by the sudden flip of a switch. Bright light floods the room and he's momentarily blinded by it.

There is a lapse of silence that precedes the the flurry of footsteps that race toward him. Just as he is adjusting to the newfound brightness, he feels something smack against the side of his head. Despite the force behind it, whatever the weapon is—it's too soft to be anything more than a nuisance.

"Hotaru, stop!" the woman pinned below him gasps out desperately the moment he eases the pressure on her neck.

Through squinted eyes, he peers over at his "assailant." It's a young girl, perhaps six or seven? He freezes when he realizes that those are two kakugan staring him down. His nostrils flare instinctively and he picks up the mixed scents. The woman beneath him is definitely human, but that girl—

Icy cold fingers grip his wrist, and he realizes that the woman he has pinned is trying desperately to pry his hand away from her neck. Perspiration beads on her forehead, but no matter how much strength she tries to summon, humans are inherently inferior to ghouls. All he has to do is apply the slightest bit of force and she'll shatter.

Something smacks him square in the face. He only realizes what it is once the other girl—Hotaru—takes a few defensive steps back the moment he reaches out to try to grab for her. She is holding a stuffed rabbit firmly in her tiny little fingers, brandishing it as though it's some kind of deadly weapon that she intends to assault him with again.

His head tilts in confusion. What is a ghoul doing inside of a human's house? And trying to protect said human? It's almost enough to make him nauseous.

"D-don't hurt Akira-nee or... I-I'll—"

"Let me up," a raspy voice commands from below him.

Ayato hesitates. His mind is in a haze. How is he supposed to react in this situation? It should have just been a lone human. If he had killed her just a few seconds sooner, he wouldn't be witness to such an odd scene.

A hand pushes against his chest, coaxing him to move away. He relents, if only because his curiosity supersedes any hostility that he feels. The two people in this room pose no danger to him, even if the smaller one is seething with murderous intent.

As soon as she is free, the woman called Akira dashes for the little girl who has tears pouring down her cheeks. The two of them meet each other in an embrace. Together they make for an odd pair. The child is beautiful despite her activated kakugan. Her hair is a dusty auburn and slightly curled as it hangs down to her shoulders. The sight of her with her bunny tucked under her arm as she nuzzles against the person she calls her sister evokes the image of a porcelain doll.

Akira gently pulls the child into her bosom, stroking her head as though to provide some comfort. "It's alright," she coos in a quiet voice. "There's no need to cry or be upset."

"But... he was going to—"

"Everything is okay now."

That is certainly not the case in Ayato's mind. He has no intention of letting the two of them go; this is merely to satiate his own curiosity. It is not every day you find a ghoul child being harbored in the house of a human. The sight is utterly foreign to him. Love is conditional, what benefit could this human _possibly_ have for taking care of a ghoul? His eyes narrow.

"Let's get you back to bed, okay?" As she says that, Akira's gaze slowly turns toward him. For the moment that she fixes him with the most threatening glare she can manage, she doesn't seem human. Her gaze is that of a mother protecting its young, but he has to stifle a laugh at the absurd comparison. There is no way a human can legitimately care for a ghoul. It's those peace-loving idiots in the 20th ward that would buy into that crap.

While he is making these musings in his head, the pair suddenly start down the hallway together. Akira says nothing to him as she leaves, and he wonders in the back of his head if her intention isn't to escape. One tentative step and then another, and he's started down the hallway a solid ten paces after her.

By the time he reaches the end of the hall, she's ducking out of a room and softly closing the door behind her. There appears to be no outward indication as to whether or not she heard him coming, but she does turn her gaze toward him at last.

"Could you settle for that compromise I mentioned earlier?" There is a self-deprecating smile on her face as she says that, but just as quickly she averts her gaze to the floor. "That's probably impossible. You're the one who has been killing those CCG investigators in this area, right?"

He tires quickly of her questions, moderately annoyed that she would presume to make queries of him. So instead he ignores her questions and poses his own. "What is a human doing keeping a ghoul child?" The words weigh on his tongue with malice as he spits them out.

"You seem obsessed with labels like 'ghoul' and 'human,' but I don't see things that way," she argues back in an indignant tone. "Hotaru is... the only family she had is gone. She has no one now, except me. Her mother entrusted her to me."

Ayato cocks his head at the explanation. "You feed her?" His voice hitches in disbelief.

Realizing that this must be part of the source of his confusion, she gives a helpful nod. "I'm in training to be a nurse, so... I have certain tools at my disposal—at my University—to get her food without having to kill anybody. She doesn't need to eat very much to sustain herself."

There are three things in particular that Kirishima Ayato despises. The foremost of which is investigators, followed by humans. The last is weakness, in any form, whether it is in a ghoul or in a human. Yet this fragile creature before him has positioned herself directly in front of the door, behind which a ghoul child is sleeping soundly.

Whatever is going on here is none of his concern. It does not even occur to him to display any gratitude at being "saved," because he is quite confident in his own survival skills. Even if Akira hadn't happened upon him and dragged him inside her house, he would have found some way to make it through.

There is something about this whole situation that grates him, however. He is not a particularly sadistic person, but... "Alright. I won't kill you. I'll kill that child instead." He points toward the door behind her. "Unless you want to saw off your left arm and give it to me." Honestly he has no real intention of killing the child; if the woman doesn't accept his conditions and choses to sacrifice the child instead, he has every intention of liberating her head from her body.

The look of shock that he expects registers on her face immediately, her jaw drawing slightly agape as she digests his demand. For a moment, awestruck, she gazes down at the arm he has given his ultimatum for. Her right hand clenches tightly against her left forearm. Then, seeming to come to a decision, she lifts her gaze back to him. "Okay," she says in a breathless voice. "If you'll spare Hotaru and me, then I'll give you my arm."


	2. two

**Author's Note:** Thank you guys for the reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter. As for the question about when this takes place, it takes place between Tokyo Ghoul's ending and Tokyo Ghoul:re's beginning. So yes, it's from the manga - context and inspiration is taken from the occasional appearance of Ayato somewhere during chapter 90-something or so, and his final appearance in Tokyo Ghoul. Hope this helps!

**Veravera -** Bless your heart, and thank you for all the kind words. I'm glad the opening piqued your interest, and hopefully it only continues to get better!

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><p><strong>chapter two<strong>

The loss of a limb for a human is something _permanent._ Akira is keenly aware of just how fragile she is compared to the man who is surveying her as she assembles her supplies for this "operation." Perspiration lines her brow, and she can't shake the tremor of fear that hits her as she starts securing the tourniquet over her upper arm.

She has been taught about amputations, but they were always something medically necessary in her studies—something of an emergency. This, however, is pure sadistic cruelty on part of the person watching her intently with those two gleaming eyes. Not for a moment since he arrived has he deactivated his kakugan. It's like he's trying to remind her of what he is.

"I have one favor to ask," she says, her voice not betraying her calm expression.

The ghoul, wrapped in a long, flowing black coat, seems to be struggling with a wound of his own. He has been holding one hand against the right side of his abdomen this entire time. When she had stepped outside during the commotion earlier and spotted him, she had noticed the blood dripping from it. There is the occasional droplet that lands on her floor, but it must be healing rapidly. He isn't nearly as pale as he was when she first dragged him in.

"Favor?" He scoffs in apparent disgust. "You wanted a compromise—"

"You said you would spare my life, but if I die after doing this, then you're not holding up your end of the deal." Although she suspects it might be part of his plan for her to die of bloodloss in the long run, this is her way of cleverly conning him into insuring that the worst case scenario doesn't come true. Yet when it really comes down to it, she hardly has a choice. If he refuses, she'll have to go through it without any help.

He glowers at her. "I owe you nothing," he hisses. It's clear that she has sparked his anger, and judging by the way the hand hanging at his side seems to be gradually clenching, he's starting to debate killing her outright after all.

"I just need you to help me cauterize the wound once I've made the cut."

The man cocks his head, his eyes widening. "Cauterize?" he echoes back as though he doesn't for a moment believe she is serious about lopping her arm off for him.

"To stop the bleeding, so I don't bleed to death."

A look of realization seems to cross his face and for a brief moment he averts those eerie eyes to the side. "That's right, human trash is so incredibly weak..." There is a hint of amusement in his voice as though he's entertained by how conscious she is of her own mortality.

Sensing that the odds of being able to rely on him at all are non-existent, she resolves herself to having to complete the entire procedure on her own. Although speaking honestly, she has no confidence that even her sharpest, largest kitchen knife will successfully make a clean cut all the way through. Perhaps if this ghoul wielded it for her, but she might not even be able to _saw_ it off by herself.

Silently, she lifts the blade. Her hand hangs there in mid-air, positioned over the spot she has designated as the "cut off" point on her upper arm. For a moment she hesitates, and when she briefly peers over at him, she sees that smirk growing on his lips. He has every bit of confidence that she won't go through with it.

There is no guarantee that, even if she does, he will choose not to kill her or Hotaru after all. At least if he spares Hotaru, that is the most that Akira can hope for. If this strange act of self-mutilation is enough to subdue his malice at all, then it will be worth it. That's what she tells herself.

One shaky inhale and then she holds her breath as she clenches her hand tightly around the hilt of the knife. Then she swings downward. Yet, to her surprise, her blade meets unusual resistance and she's forced to glance up. She freezes when she realizes that the ghoul has suddenly moved in front of her—and he has his hand wrapped around the whole blade of the knife, which she thinks must surely be cutting right through his skin—though she sees no blood.

"W-what are...?"

"Most humans are garbage," he says matter-of-factly. "But you're just fucking nuts."

Slowly her grip starts to relax and realizing that she has released the knife, he drops it to the ground.

"B-but... you're still going to—"

"I won't kill you or the kid this time." He makes a point of assuring her that this may be the only time he deems to let her off.

Once she realizes that she is safe, her gaze lands on the wound hidden in the darkness of his overcoat. It's as she gazes upon his pale fingers, coated in a thick sheen of fresh blood that something occurs to her. "Since you let me off..." Hesitantly, she turns toward the refrigerator in the corner. Her hand trembles as she reaches for the handle, unable to shake off the fear that just moments ago she had been about to drive a knife through her own arm.

The ghoul watches her warily from behind.

When she turns back to him, she presents a small package that fits snuggly in the palms of her hands as she offers it to him. "Food," she says when she realizes he's regarding her apprehensively. "Eating will help you heal, right? It's the least I can offer."

Unexpectedly, he slaps her hand away, nearly causing the package she is holding to flop right out of her hand. "I don't need human pity."

His derision toward her is blatant, and her shoulders sag a bit in defeat as she takes a retreating step back. Perhaps he thinks she has given up, but after a moment of serious consideration, Akira extends her hands toward him again, still craddling the package. "Ghouls are the ones who killed my father and my brother. I have no reason to feel pity for a ghoul," she tells him honestly. "I'm offering this because I see a _person—_not a ghoul—suffering in front of me, and I want to help."

Perhaps those words trigger something in the man whose name she does not know, because he stares at her for a long moment. His lips are stretched in a taut line and soon drawn into a frown as he snatches the package from her without a word of thanks. In fact, as he unwraps it, he seems deeply displeased—and she wonders if he doesn't plan to throw it back in her face.

He studies her expression as he takes the first bite, perhaps watching for some show of disgust to register. When he realizes that she is not the least bit repulsed watching him eat, he turns his gaze away. There is no savoring of the taste, it's almost as though he's trying to choke it down quickly so that the meal is over with.

A look of relief crosses Akira's face and her pale, chapped lips relax into a smile.

"You really are nuts," he says. "How can you just watch? I'm eating another human."

His words seem to stir something in her and she averts her gaze, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her oversized ear. "I made myself watch Hotaru eat many times, so I think I'm desensitized to it now. Although at first watching made me feel a bit..."

"You watch her eat?"

Now that the immediate danger has passed, there's almost a bubbling excitement in her chest that she hasn't been able to express before. Speaking to a ghoul—someone who can truly understand Hotaru like she is unable to—it feels like a blessing somehow. "I do," she answers timidly, wondering now if it isn't a bit odd that she does. "I never wanted her to feel alienated because she has to eat something different than I do... so we eat dinner together."

At that he lets forth a dry laugh. "What kind of human are you?"

She peers up at him cautiously, wondering if maybe he is starting to be slightly less tense now. "Um... honestly, I really don't know how I should be raising a ghoul child. I don't even know how to raise a human child. If... if you don't mind, Black Rabbit-san, could I ask you some questions?"

"You just asked me one," he points out, licking the blood from his fingers.

Without missing a beat, she reaches for a paper towel and tears off a strip that she thrusts toward him. "You can clean your hands with this."

"Ayato," the man says as he snatches it from her and proceeds wipe his hands off.

The fact that he discloses his name seems to mesmerize Akira who stares back at him with her mouth slightly agape. It takes a moment for her to recover and reply with her own. "Akira..." She skips her surname, if only because he did the same. "Um... Ayato-san, how old are you?"

The glare he gives her when she queries makes her regret her question instantly. "What does my age have to do with anything?" The way he snaps at her is almost accusatory, as if he expects she will use the information against him.

"I just thought you might be younger than me," she says, feeling abashed.

"We're not on friendly terms just because you know my name." As though he feels the need to clarify, he belatedly adds, "I hate shitty human garbage."

It is clear to Akira that although he may have begrudgingly relented on his original intention to devour her, he has no intention of having any pleasant association with her. She smiles bitterly at him, her gaze moving toward the wound on his abdomen. Since his clothing is so dark, it's hard to see anything, but the bleeding seems to have subsided by now. "Has your wound healed?"

"Don't play at being concerned about me."

She expels a sigh, exasperated at how defensive he is. "If you have the energy to be so temperamental then I'll take it that you're okay. Should I go check and see if the investigators have left the area?"

He cocks his head at her, his brows furrowing. "Why?"

"... so you can escape...?"

At this, he gives her an eerie smile. "I'm not leaving."

Confusion immediately registers on Akira's face as she tries to translate the meaning behind that. She realizes that even if he doesn't give the impression, he must be exhausted. It is the middle of the night and he must have lost a lot of blood. Even though he is a ghoul that should have taken some toll on his energy, right? He probably needs to rest and recover. Although ghouls aren't much like humans, so she's not really sure...

"What? Are you going to try to kick me out after I spared your life?"

"No," she answers immediately, alarmed. "I just thought you wouldn't want to stick around here for longer than you had to. I don't mind if you want to stay the night. You can use my bed if you like."

He shoves his hands into the pockets in his jacket. "It probably stinks of human. Just point me to your couch."

It is difficult for her to digest the way this situation has gradually evolved, but Akira manages to stiffly take the lead and guide him to her living quarters. The couch is a rather cramped two-seater with a coffee table sitting in front of it and a television on the far wall. "I can get you some blankets—"

"Don't need them," he cuts her off as he plops down, kicking his shoes off lazily. Ayato doesn't seem to mind in the least that his manner is rude. He just rolls over onto his side, his back facing her as though he intends to go straight to sleep.

"I'll just... put these by the door," she mumbles quietly, retrieving his shoes and padding back toward the main entrance. She pauses once she gets there, spotting the abandoned mask lying facedown on the ground. Once she puts his shoes by the entrance, she retrieves the mask and flips it over in her hand. It is painted a solid pitch black that seems to almost perfectly match his clothing. Once she has finished, she moves back toward the living area.

As though he knows that she has retrieved it, Ayato extends his arm out behind him without even looking. "Give it," he commands brusquely.

She passes it over without any qualms, wincing when he rips it right out of her grasp before she has a chance to release her hold on it. "Well," she says, hesitating for a moment. "Um... good night, Ayato-san." Even though he can't see her, she bows forward slightly, grateful for how everything has turned out.

When he doesn't saying anything in response, she tiptoes away and starts toward her bedroom. She pauses when she is about to pass Hotaru's room. Although Akira realizes that he has let her off, she gets the distinct impression that tomorrow could come and he'll just as easily change his mind.

With that thought in mind, she hurries to the linen closet and retrieves a pillow and a blanket. Then, setting the pillow on the floor directly in front of Hotaru's door, she settles down upon it and drapes the quilt around her shoulders before closing her eyes. It will be difficult to nod off in this position, but just as he is wary of her, she can't shake the feeling that he might decide to do something to Hotaru—and that is one thing she cannot allow. Exhaustion eventually takes precedence over her sense of caution and she nods off, slumped forward with her back still pressed against the door leading into Hotaru's bedroom.

Sprawled out on the uncomfortably cramped couch, Ayato seems far less capable of dozing than his human counterpart. He closes his eyes and listens to the silence of the house, perhaps expecting that he might hear footsteps returning toward him. He cannot shake his own mistrust of humans—that just as she smiled at him so easily when he was eating, so too could she easily stab him in his sleep.

As the minutes tick by, the voice of caution in his head is drowned out by his own exhaustion which coaxes him into a deep slumber rather quickly.


	3. three

**Author's Note:** First I want to apologize for this being a bit late! My computer died on me and all attempts to fix it were fruitless. But I'm back in business again! Thankfully all the progress on this story was backed up. I wanted to post this up as quick as I could. So I hope you guys enjoy the new chapter! Since this week is my last week I may be able to get up the next chapter sooner, but I make no promises.

Huge thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter. The reviews were so motivating and inspiring! Bless you guys!

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><p><strong>chapter three<strong>

What rouses him in the morning is not the scuffing of feet against the wood flooring, nor the sizzling of something being grilled in the kitchen. The stench of human food does not even cause him to stir; it's a smell he is too accustomed to even notice anymore. But as he is slowly inhaling and exhaling, a very different scent floods into his nostrils. He jolts upright almost immediately. It smells like... blood...?

Ayato rolls off of the couch, landing like a feline on the floor, resting back on his haunches as he scans his surroundings. No one is in the immediate vicinity, but Akira must be in the kitchen judging from the noise. He sniffs at the air. The scent is one that he does not recognize, but it smells too fresh to be permeating from one of those packages that she presented him with last night.

Although he fully realizes that none of this has anything to do with him, he pads quickly across the floor with his mask held firmly in his left hand. He rounds the corner and starts down the hallway. When he reaches the kitchen, he peeks into it with cautious eyes, as though he's too adjusted to constant fighting that he can't enter like a normal person.

"Sorry, did I wake you?"

His gaze is immediately drawn to the owner of the voice, who is hovering by the sink. The water is running and she seems to be washing her hands off. His eyes widen a fraction as he realizes that the source of that appetizing smell is coming from her finger, which she seems to have clumsily cut open.

She follows his eyes and realizes what he is looking at. "Oh, I cut my finger."

Ayato tilts his head. He hadn't taken much heed of her scent last night, but now that he is fully recovered and they are in such close proximity, he can feel it flooding his nose. Her smell seems to seep into his brain and he becomes keenly aware of just how hungry he feels. That measly portion she provided him last night was hardly sufficient.

"Are... you hungry?"

The question startles him, and finally he tears his gaze away from her injury. "I don't need your concern."

"I'm not concerned," she says with a bitter smile, seeming to have grown accustomed to his hostility. "I just thought that if you were hungry, you could sit down and eat with Hotaru and me this morning. I was just about to get her food out too."

It seems too surreal to imagine sitting down at a table and eating with his prey. What is even stranger is that Akira acts perfectly comfortable over it, but he can't imagine she's as unaffected as she pretends. She did mention last night that her family had been killed by ghouls.

"Ayato-san?"

"Is he going to eat with us?" a groggy voice asks curiously as the small child from last night wanders past him. She is rubbing tiredly at her eyes as she approaches Akira, who kneels down to greet the small girl with an open embrace and a heart-warming smile. "Morning, Aki-nee..."

"Good morning! Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah..."

It occurs to Ayato that what Akira shows him is only tepid kindness, like a formality or an obligation, but the moment she is around Hotaru, her eyes light up. He's not sure whether he should regard Hotaru as more like the humans she is surrounded by, or if he should think of Akira as more like the ghouls she seems so willing to accept.

"Well, Ayato-san? Do you want to eat with us?" The two of them are peering over at him, Akira still wearing that smile on her face. Hotaru seems far more cautious, shyly averting her eyes the moment he looks at her.

His tacit concession to their promptings is answered when he strolls past them and seats himself at the table at the far end of the room. Ayato rests his arm on the surface and leans the side of his face against a fist, peering back into the kitchen at the two. He is developing some kind of morbid curiosity about the pair. They are so far from ordinary or anything he would have ever thought possible that he wonders how they can live this way. It goes against common sense.

"Why don't you go over and sit with Ayato-san? I'm almost done making everything." Dimples appear on her cheeks as she grins at the little girl, affectionately patting her on the head. Even from this distance, Ayato can see the puffy crescents just under those hazel eyes. Akira must not have slept much at all last night.

"Okay..." The little girl peers reluctantly back at Ayato. She meekly makes her way over, taking the farthest seat that she can from him, and as soon as she is seated, she faces away in attempt to dissuade him from striking up conversation with her—as though he has any interest in it in the first place.

Preparations don't take much longer and Akira returns with their meals. She appears to have unwrapped the packages herself, placed them neatly on plates and arranged silverware on the table for the two of them to eat with. Once his meal is set before him, Ayato merely studies it with a look of disinterest before turning his gaze to the child sitting across from him.

Hotaru seems to be a jovial mood, humming to herself as she picks up her knife and fork, slowly trying to cut into the slab by herself. The moment Akira seems to notice the girl struggling, she comes to her rescue. "You should hold your knife and fork like this," she advises in a motherly tone. There is a noticeable loss of color in her cheeks as she instructs—indicating that perhaps she's not as accustomed to the girl's diet as she'd like to believe.

"Okay!"

Ayato isn't entirely sure what he is watching but he almost feels like he's in a circus. A human? Teaching a ghoul the proper eating etiquette? To _eat_ human? It's enough to make him sick. It would make more sense of Akira herself were a ghoul, but she is most definitely not.

While he is preoccupied with his wayward thoughts, Akira retrieves her own breakfast. He isn't entirely sure what it's called; he long ago gave up any interest in humans or their eating habits. He is _not_ like that human-loving shitty sister of his.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Akira asks curiously as she peers over at him as she stabs the egg on her plate with her fork, drawing it up through the air and tucking it between her two lips before chewing a few times and swallowing.

He reaches toward the slab of meat on his plate, fully intending to lift it into his hand and tear it apart with his teeth.

"Don't eat like that," the little girl speaks up reproachfully after swallowing a piece of her own food. "It's bad manners."

Even Akira seems mildly surprised to hear Hotaru speak up about it. "Oh, no, don't worry about it, Ayato-san, you can eat—"

"But you told me that even ghouls should have table manners," Hotaru protests childishly.

The dark-haired teenager leans back in his chair, reaching for the fork and knife. He knows how to use these utensils, even if it has been some time since he has gripped them in his hands. The last thing he needs is for his own kind to call him a barbarian for how he eats. Although he could just easily separate her head from her body and be done with it.

That thought becomes especially appealing when he sees the surprise register on Akira's face as she watches him, but just as quickly she is smiling again. She doesn't say anything as she returns to eating her own food, but it is clear that she is pleased.

_Stupid shitty humans and their etiquette bull shit._

For all of her preaching about table manners, the red-haired kid scarfs her food down rather quickly. The moment she has cleared her plate she excitedly leaps out of her chair and races out of the kitchen. The seconds of silence in her absence seem so short when she comes running back through the doorway with a backpack hanging off her shoulders.

"Aki-nee, come tie my shoes!" she commands impatiently, hopping up and down.

Although she has scarcely had the opportunity to eat much of the food on her plate, Akira doesn't seem to mind the younger girl's selfish request. She smiles to herself as she slips away from the table. "Alright, but you have to recite the rules again."

"Again?"

"Again."

There is an audible groan as the two start out of the kitchen. While they are moving down the hallway, Ayato can hear the echo of Hotaru's voice saying, "Rule one, don't tell anybody I'm a ghoul no matter what. Rule two, if they offer me food, I have to refuse. Rule three..."

When Akira returns, Ayato has already finished his food. He watches silently as she settles back into her chair without glancing in his direction even once. She seems content to clear the rest of her plate, even though her food must have grown cold by now—though Ayato hardly considers that. Humans and their affinity for heated meals is beyond his comprehension, although he does consider how delicious fresh human meat is as opposed to the cold stuff that she has been serving him.

"She likes to go to the park and play when she can."

That remark catches him by surprise. He made no inclination to suggest that he wanted any answers about what the kid was doing. "It has nothing to do with me."

"You're not even a little curious?" Akira peers over at him expectantly.

It would be a lie to say he's not, but it's not like he had the intention to ask either. He just shrugs.

"I used to really worry she would be found out if she was around humans for very long, but I set up some rules for Hotaru so that hopefully we never run into that problem. She is a really smart little girl, very diligent. I think she realizes how important it is to keep her secrets."

It is strange for him to listen to a human ramble about how concerned they are over a ghoul being found out by other humans. He remembers similar conversations with Touka and his father, but it just dredges up bitter memories that are better left forgotten. "What will you do if they find out? What will you do if the investigators come?" She hardly deserves such pressing questions, but Ayato sees it as an inevitability. This life the two of them have built together is sitting on precarious ground. This isn't a world where ghouls and humans can coexist peacefully.

"I've considered that possibility. Unfortunately I can't help Hotaru like a ghoul parent would be able to, but... I am trying to prepare her for the worst case scenario."

"Worst case scenario?" He almost wants to snort at how grave her voice sounds as she says that, as if she has any clue what the worst case scenario is. "Worst case scenario is she dies."

Unaffected by his reaction to her words, Akira tightens her hands into fists on her lap as she stares down at the little bit of food still left on her plate—a roll of sausage and half of an egg, the yolk bleeding out across the plate. "The worst case scenario is that I have to fight while she escapes."

"You? Fight?" Ayato guffaws.

Her face blanches as she stands abruptly, taking a few stiff steps over toward the kitchen sink. When she digs beneath the cabinet below it, she produces a familiar silver case—one that he has seen dozens of times before. "I'll fight with this," she says in a grave voice, those piercing brown eyes staring him down intently.

There is only one way to obtain one of those, and Ayato is keenly aware of that. He knocks the chair behind him against the wall. It clatters to the floor as he positions himself in a defensive stance, fully intending to attack if she leaves an opening. "Only an investigator would have one of those."

"I'm not an investigator." There is a pained expression on her face as she tucks the case back into its hiding spot before closing the cabinet and standing up, dusting off her bottom. "My brother became one after our father was killed by a ghoul... he gave it to me as a means of self-protection. I doubt it was approved by the CCG though. They'd confiscate it if they knew I had it."

It has never sat right with Ayato that the investigators used his own kind against him, and somehow he feels equally uncomfortable with the thought that Akira has a quinque in her position.

"I've never used it before," she confides with a helpless smile. "I would probably be killed very quickly if I had to use it. I don't even know what it looks like inside or if I could even use it... but somehow, I feel like if I had to, I would do it. I would do anything to protect Hotaru."

Finally they arrive at the question that Ayato has been silently wondering this entire time. "Why?"

At his question she slowly smiles to herself, and it's that same expression she makes whenever she is speaking with Hotaru. There is a light behind her eyes as she sits there, staring off vacantly. "Because... Hotaru gives me hope that some day we'll be able to bridge the gap between ghoul and human. Just like there are awful humans, there are awful ghouls—but there's a lot of good ones too, aren't there? I'm sure they're struggling to live among us without being found out, and that they're suffering right now because of what they are."

"Ghouls killed your family," he reminds her. "How can you live with one? Raise one?"

"I'm not a saint. It's not like I've forgotten or forgiven what happened. But Hotaru never killed anyone, least of all my family." For a moment she pauses, thoughtful. "When she first came here she was five. Her mother was actually a neighbor of mine and we'd always been amicable. I never knew they were ghouls. When I found out, I felt betrayed and disgusted."

Ayato swallows the lump forming in his throat. Of course she thinks that. All humans see them that way.

Yet for as tactlessly honest as she is being, Akira turns her gaze toward him and grins. "I feel really stupid for being so closed-minded now. It's probably hard for someone like you to believe all of this. I can't say I like ghouls, but I know I love Hotaru and that's enough for me."

Once he has heard that, he gradually relaxes without even realizing it. He's no longer in his defensive position, biting at the bit for a brawl to start. Any inclination he had to leap at her and tear her throat open has abated.

"Boring," he mumbles under his breath, disinterested in pursuing any more questions. He shoves his hands into his pockets and stalks out into the hallway.

"Ayato-san, are you leaving?" she calls out after him, scrambling to her feet to peek out the kitchen.

"Not yet." Although there is no purpose in lingering, he can't abandon these two now that they have captivated his interest. He knows himself well enough to believe he'll grow tired of watching them soon enough. This is just a way to kill some time.


	4. four

**Author's Note:** Sorry this didn't come out as soon as I might have liked. It's finals week here and I spent the better part of it really sick. I digress, I hope you enjoy the new chapter! Thank you to all of the precious, wonderful people who reviewed the last chapter - as always, I really really appreciate anyone taking the time to say just a few words. Bless you guys!

**Kiki - **To answer your question, this takes place immediately after Tokyo Ghoul, so before Tokyo Ghoul:RE.

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><p><strong>chapter four<strong>

"Ayato-san, there are some things I have been wondering..." After their earlier conversation, she had spent some time mulling it over—and now she has realized the cause for initial excitement at finding another ghoul. For the longest time she has struggled over how to raise Hotaru properly and healthily while hiding her identity, and she has discovered a potential goldmine of information on how to do that. So now she finds herself squatting beside his resting place—her own couch—with a pen and notepad.

Clearly disgruntled that he has awoken from his nap to the worst possible visitor, Ayato snarls irritably and rolls over onto his other side as though he is trying to avoid her.

"Just a few questions," she assures impatiently.

No response.

"Um... in return if there's anything you want..."

Although she suspects he will continue to rebuff her every attempt to coax him, that seems enough to prompt him to stir. He sits up abruptly and turns his gaze toward her. That fluffy, disheveled hair falls around his face. As though irritated by the strands hanging in his eyes, he smooths them back with a hand before finally peering down at her. "You're annoying."

Those chocolate brown eyes stare blankly at him. She blinks a few times before glancing down at the empty margins where the point of her pen is poised to take notes. "I appreciate your bluntness, but I wasn't wanting to ask you what you think of me."

Her sarcasm is not lost on him. "... there nothing but garbage in that head of yours? Snapping your neck is as easy as breathing for me."

"I know that, but if you were going to kill me you would have probably done it by now."

"Don't test me," he warns threateningly.

This is a frustrating course for their conversation to take when all she really wants is some direct answers. She sinks back, her writing hand falling lax. Then another idea occurs to her. "Say, do you know any ghouls that are tolerant of humans? Rather than bothering you, I could ask them."

He frowns, perhaps insulted that she would expect him to divulge their identities when it could potentially put them into danger. More likely he feels incredulous that she would presume to use someone else—as though he's not good enough. "I can answer them just fine," he hisses indignantly.

Ayato is a difficult person to deal with she decides, but even as temperamental as he is, his knowledge is valuable. "I know this is an ignorant thing to ask, but is there anything ghouls can eat besides... meat?" She purposefully avoids mentioning the word "human" before "meat."

"Tch, of course not," he answers with a click of the tongue as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. Then suddenly his face goes blank for a moment. "Oh... well, there is coffee."

She leans forward, her face alight with intrigue. "Really? You can drink coffee?"

"I _don't_ drink it," he clarifies, "but I _can_ drink it."

It mystifies her that he has to make this whole thing about himself when she's not the least bit interested in his personal preferences. Her motivation is finding other alternatives for Hotaru. "That's really helpful to know! I don't drink much caffeine... I'll have to try picking up some coffee at the store. But all I can make is instant..."

"Was there anything else?" Ayato asks impatiently, annoyed at her monologue.

"I understand that if a ghoul eats human food it makes them sick, but Hotaru's mother would often eat food with me. I'm a little confused as to how she was able to do it, and she always seemed like she enjoyed it, too. That's why I was shocked when I found out she was a ghoul."

"There's a trick to eating human food. You just have to swallow it whole without tasting it, make it look like you chewed it, and then throw it up immediately after."

Her face falls the more she listens to his explanation. It occurs to Akira that Hotaru's mother must have gone to great painstaking lengths to maintain appearances that she was human. To have to force feed yourself something that repulses you and throw it up after—she feels a deep sense of guilt given that her previous hatred of ghouls might have driven Hotaru's mother to feel that was a necessary precaution.

"Oi, Akira."

She starts when she hears him say her name. "S-sorry, I was just thinking... that's really awful."

"Only dumb asses would go that far anyways. There's no need for us to force ourselves."

Those words are like a reality check and she swallows the lump in the back of her throat. "You really don't wear a facade in front of people at all, do you?"

"Only weaklings have to do that shit." He shifts back, leaning agaisnt the couch, his arms crossed behind his head as he makes his declaration off-handedly. It's like he is asserting that he's one of the "strong" ghouls—which is why he sees no point in catering to his "food."

"Why... do you kill the investigators?"

The question should be a landmine, but instead he just leans forward and reaches toward her. Akira doesn't have the opportunity to move before his fingers wrap around her neck. She tenses, expecting him to choke her just as he had the night when they first met, but he applies no pressure. "Humans are fragile... so they kill us and use us as their weapons so they can kill more of us. Even the ones that don't fight, even the ones that can't fight."

Rather than mention that this runs completely contrary to what he said earlier, she smiles stiffly at him and leans forward. The entire time they have been engaged in conversation, Ayato has been battling his bangs, trying to smooth them back only for them to fall right into his eyes again. As she gets closer, he seems to freeze, one of his hands still wrapped gently around her neck. She seems to ignore this fact and lifts a hand to push his hair back for him. "I think I have a headband if it's bothering you that much."

The two of them are close enough that she can feel his breath on her lips, and staring into his eyes, she feels almost enraptured. The last time she viewed them up close was when his kakugan was activated—she had been distinctly aware at that time just how different the two of them were, ghoul and human. Now there is no such line separating them; she sees herself reflect in those dark crimson irises and it leaves a lingering impression that perhaps there's more similarity between them than he would care to admit.

His calloused hand slowly wraps around the side of her neck, his fingers tangling themselves in her hair as he suddenly puts pressure on the back of her head. Akira finds herself forced forward. Instinctively she lowers her hands in front her chest to stop the forward motion, but before she realizes it, there is something soft covering her lips.

A deep, earthy scent floods her nose and the warmth he provides is almost enough to lull her into submission. But as quickly, she realizes that rather than immersing himself in the feeling of the kiss, those blood colored eyes are staring her down with no hint of passion. It's like he's observing her reaction, and he's only performing this action out of pure curiosity; to get a taste of something he has never had before.

Her jaw tightens and she quickly smacks his hand away, catching him by surprise. Akira takes advantage of the moment and falls back onto her haunches. Wiping the back of her hand across her lips as though to convey her distaste for his actions, she hastily stands and retreats from the living area without saying a word to him. The notepad with her scribbles is left behind, but she's not of the mind to go back and retrieve it.

—

"I'm home!" Hotaru bursts through the door with this declaration, belatedly remembering that she is suppose to remove her shoes before enterting the hallway. Feeling slightly abashed, she retraces her footsteps, peering around cautiously to make sure that her misbehavior has no witnesses. She hastily kicks off her shoes before she takes off racing down the hallway. The first place she decides to check is the living room.

When she enters, she freezes instantly when she sees "the nasty man," as she has dubbed him, sitting there on the couch. He seems to be sulking, his knees drawn up to his chest. Hotaru has seen Akira perched like this on top of the couch before when something bad happened at school.

She really doesn't care for this man, ghoul or otherwise, but her curiosity is nagging at her. Resigning herself, she edges toward him one cautious, tentative step at a time. "U-um... Ayato-nii...?" It doesn't occur to her that such a name might be inappropriately familiar.

"Hah?"

It almost sounds like he's snapping at her when he says it, and at first she stiffens like a scolded house cat. When she realizes that he's not actually admonishing her, she takes a few more steps until she's standing immediately in front of him. That small girl with the chubby cheeks tilts her head as she examines his expression. "Did Aki-nee go somewhere...?"

"I don't know where that shitty human went."

She recoils a little, shocked by his language. "Aki-nee said civil people shouldn't talk like that," she mutters in dismay.

"She can say whatever she wants. I don't give a—"

Annoyed by his attitude, she reaches toward him and pinches his arm, nearly causing him to jump in his seat. "No more bad words!"

"Fuck, this is why kids are—"

_Pinch._

"Fine, I got it! Get your hands off before I beat you, kid!"

Feeling a little mischievous, she snickers as she ducks out of the way of one of his poorly timed swipes. "You're not actually that nasty of a person, huh?" She grins at him, lips peeling back to reveal her teeth—a few of which are missing. "Are you going to be staying here?"

"Hell no."

She reaches toward him to pinch him again and he holds his hands up defensively, glaring at her. Hotaru smiles triumphantly. "Good! There is a nice neighbor man that looks after Aki-nee and me. So we don't need you." She pokes her tongue out of her mouth before darting off down the hallway to find Akira.

Her absence proves to be short-lived. Only a minute later she comes dashing back toward the living room, brandishing something in her right hand that she nearly hits him with as she comes screeching to a halt right in front of the couch.

"Aki-nee said to give you this!" she declares, breathless.

Ayato takes the object from her. It takes a moment for him to realize that it's one of those headbands she had mentioned earlier. He frowns. "Why didn't she bring it to me?"

At the query, Hotaru turns pensive. "Hm... Aki-nee sounded angry. Did you do something bad?"

"How old is she?" Rather than answer, he responds to her question with one of his own.

"Mm... nineteen? Or twenty?" Uncertain, the little girl tilts her head back and forth.

"She's young for a nurse isn't she?"

"Assistant nurse."

That makes a certain amount of sense. Honestly, Ayato had thought she couldn't be more than a year or two older with that babyface. How deceptive. He cocks his head.

Seeming to have gotten a very different impression from his questions than mere curiosity, Hotaru grins knowingly. "Her favorite flower is the azalea. Um... I think she likes the color orange the most. And she really likes chocolate, I see her eat it all the time."

"Why are telling me something so pointless?"

The little girl blinks slowly, her ashy gray eyes staring innocently back at the scowling man. "Because if you did something wrong, then you have to say you're sorry. If you're bad at saying you're sorry then it's good to give a gift!"

She is incredibly intuitive about human rituals for being a ghoul herself. Maybe it is because she has been exposed to them so much. Either way, Ayato is not particularly fussed about whether a human is angry with him or not. He has no intention of loitering here much longer.

"The longer you wait, the worse it's gonna get!"

As the child nags at him, Ayato turns his gaze to the notebook on the floor. He leans forward and stretches out to snatch it off the floor. Turning it over, his eyes scan the words written. It's rather amusing how she wrote everything he said, word-for-word, even his own personal preferences that shouldn't have mattered to her in the least.

_Ghouls can drink coffee! Buy some at the store next time. Also, Ayato doesn't drink any. Maybe find a variant flavor he might like?_

What kind of idiot of a human concerns themselves with a ghoul's preference in coffee? He tears the note off and crumples it into his hand as he stands up. His mask is lying on the floor beside the couch, essentially discarded. Ayato retrieves it and secures it over his face. He has satisfied his curiosity enough by now. There is no point in ovestaying a welcome that never existed.

"Are you leaving?" Hotaru asks anxiously.

He glances at her through he holes in the mask. "Yeah," comes his muffled reply.

"Aren't you going to say bye to Aki-nee?"

"No need."

"I think she'd be sad..."

He chokes back a laugh at the notion. If anything, she should feel relieved that the person posing a threat on her life is disappearing. Even if he stays here, he only runs the risk of drawing unneeded attention to their way of life—or worse, being found out himself. He can protect himself but these weaklings would be fodder for the investigators.

"Bye, kid." He reaches his hand out and ruffles her hair, much to her chagrin. Then he heads for the door, stuffing the note he confiscated into his pocket. It's something he is sure to discard later—but for now it's a reminder that there is at least one human out there that shares the same vision as that idiotic sister of his.


	5. five

**Author's Note:** Eeeee! I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this fic. I have had so much fun writing it, and I was really nervous as to whether people would like it or not. So I'm really happy with all of the wonderful reviews! I'm not really sure what else to say before I start gushing, and I'm sure you're more interested in reading the chapter than my raving. So please enjoy! I tried to update a bit early, to show how much I appreciate the wonderful reviews.

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><p><strong>chapter five<strong>

Life is decidedly more boring when you don't have an eccentric human prodding you constantly for answers to asinine questions. At least this is the conclusion that Ayato comes to as he is strolling along with the bustling crowds one afternoon in the 7th ward. It has been several days since his abrupt departure from Akira's house.

Ads are playing on the large screens overhead—humans advertising various products. Ayato only sees it in his peripheral vision as he strolls through the crosswalk, following the heads of various adults dressed in business suits, eagerly headed home from work.

His gaze happens to pass over the store front of an affluent cafe. It's then that his footsteps freeze almost instinctively. Ayato has no particular taste for coffee despite his ability to drink it. He has long passed it off as the hobby for human lovers to guzzle it down—to make themselves feel more like the people that surround them.

Yet when he sees an advertisement in bright chalky letters announcing 'Chocolate Coffee,' an image of Akira's face immediately passes through his mind. She had been so delighted to hear that ghouls could consume coffee. Then there was Hotaru...

_"She really likes chocolate."_

He hovers in front of the glass storefront, his hood pulled up over his head and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. When he sees his reflection, he realizes how out of place he must look—an aloof teenager peering into a shop frequent by adults.

Ayato peels himself away, wiping the memories from his mind. Yet it seems to him that the world is out to remind him—because the very next shop that he notices passing is a flower boutique. Standing at the forefront in the window is an orange flower. He's not sure what kind it is, as he's not very keen on differentiating plant species like the humans are.

_"I think she likes the color orange the most."_

His expression sours quite quickly as he continues to recall Hotaru's list.

"Kirishima," a voice remarks from somewhere beside him.

That startles Ayato, and he turns himself slowly, his face taking on a rather menacing glare until he realizes that it's the shopkeeper popping her head out the door. She is a young woman with a kind smile that doesn't seem the least bit perturbed by his bad manners.

"That flower you've been staring at is called beni-kirishima. It's an orange azalea."

For a long moment he stares back at her, stricken. Do such coincidences exist in the natural world? His face contorts as he turns his gaze back to the flower. Some part of him feels an odd sort of pride—that her favorite flower shares his name, even if the kanji is entirely different.

"Did you want to order some? For your girlfriend?"

"No," he replies, struck by the irony that a ghoul could ever present flowers to a human. Ayato spins on his heel and starts back in the direction he came, bypassing the confused shopkeeper who seems a little disappointed at his disinterest.

"If you change your mind, feel free to stop by any time!"

—

He looks down at his convenience store bag and peers back up at the large dilapidated building in front of him. In the darkness that night, he hadn't realized the poor state of the exterior, but Akira's house is essentially in shamble. The shingles on the roof are faded and barely hanging on. The lattice fence that outlines the perimeter is in dire need of a paint job, and although there are hinges, no gate is to be found.

Just as he is about to take a step toward the front door, his nostrils flare as soon as he gets the whiff of a familiar scent. Almost immediately he takes a leap back, retreating behind a nearby telephone pole just a few feet away. He peers out from behind it cautiously.

The sound of a door swinging on rusty hinges breaks through the air, followed by the cacophony of footsteps and voices. They are abruptly cut short, and he briefly overhears what seems to him to be a woman's voice—Akira—bidding a farewell. In the next moment he gets a side glimpse at the owner of that discomforting smell he'd caught just moments prior.

A young man with windswept hair as obnoxiously bright as caution signs around a construction site. If that isn't his most striking aspect, then it must be the bottom half of his face which is hidden behind a scarf that is wrapped so thickly around his neck Ayato might wonder if it's not choking the man.

Yet just as he is beginning his critical assessment of this eccentric character, the man almost seems to sense Ayato, and the ghoul is forced to duck behind his hiding spot to avoid being seen. He recognizes that smell, and what's more, he recognizes that face and that hair. It's one of the investigators assigned to this ward.

That alone is enough to send his heart pumping as he inwardly debates jumping the man when he has the element of surprise on his side. From the brief glimpse that he managed, it seems the investigator is unarmed. If he timed it right, he could dispatch that nuisance without exerting much effort at all. Just as his blood is boiling, and he's debating popping out and starting his charge, he remembers Akira and Hotaru. Killing that man here would draw unnecessary attention to them and this area.

The sound of receding footsteps alert Ayato that the moment has already passed. He is left staring vacantly at the covenience store bag in his hand—reminding him that he has just placed primary importance in Akira and Hotaru's safety over his own personal goals.

Stiffly, he steps out from his hiding spot and glides up to the front door of Akira's house. He debates knocking but decides it's too human to act like an outsider. So he tries the handle is pleased to find it unlocked.

Almost as soon as it swings open, he finds himself staring straight into that freckle-covered face, Akira's own hand hovering in the air as though she had just been reaching for the handle herself. With his arrival, she takes a few retreating steps, a look of genuine surprise registering on her face.

"Ayato-san?"

"You must be awful lax to be letting an investigator wander in and out of here."

Her draw drops at that assertion. "Excuse me? Investigator?"

The ghoul motions over his shoulder with his thumb. "Guy who was just here."

A look of relief suddenly sweeps across her face. "Oh, him? He lives in the neighborhood. He's not here on any official business."

Her complacency irritates him. "Doesn't matter what he's here for. They have sharp senses."

Clearly displeased that he's treating her like a child with no discretion or sense of caution, Akira frowns. "I'm very careful about how I handle things when he is around, and I'm careful to keep Hotaru's exposure to him to a minimum. But thank you for your concern."

"I'm not concerned," he counters with a growl.

"Then why are you here?"

Like a sulky child, he turns away from her and suddenly thrusts the conveniece store bag he has been holding at her. "To give you that," he answers tersely before turning to leave. Before he even makes it two steps, she has caught him by the crook of his arm and is dragging him back with quite the impressive display of human strength.

"If you came here to give something then it's impolite if you take off immediately." Her grip on him remains firm even after she has managed to guide him inside the house and nudge the door shut behind them. Akira flashes him a smile as she digs her hand into the bag. "Ah... you bought coffee? Chocolate and... caramel flavored?"

He shrugs her hand off, feeling unnerved by the unnecessary contact.

"Thank you."

Those words gratitude seem to catch him by surprise as he stares at her with disbelief for a moment before shrugging his shoulders.

"I actually bought some instant coffee yesterday, but I think the taste is too bitter for Hotaru. She could drink it, but she wasn't keen on the taste." The memory seems to elicit a small gigglge from Akira as she relays the story, motioning for him to follow behind her.

It wasn't his explicit intention to be invited back into this house, but it seems that he's somehow been swept up in her pace. This is especially apparent because he's actually conscious of taking off his shoes at the front door rather than marching in carelessly with them on.

Akira guides him to the table where she motions for him to sit as she brews the coffee. "I want to ask you if you like sweet things, but then I'm not really sure ghouls differentiate flavors the way humans do."

"We do," he answers, amused that she's actually contemplated such small details. "Humans have different tastes to them."

"Is that so?" She nods thoughtfully, breezing over the implication that he has sampled enough of a variety to make that assessment. There is the clinking sound of china as she rounds the counter and approaches him at a brisk pace, setting two cups in front of him. She then promptly takes a seat across from him, watching him expectantly.

"I'm supposed to drink this?" He stares down indifferently at the rippling liquid, steam gradually rising and curling through the air.

"Yeah, I want to hear what you think."

It seem strange to him that he has been roped into such a duty when he has only barely reappeared. Had she been preparing herself for his return, planning to thrust him into this experimental tasting of coffee this whole time? But Akira couldn't have known that he would bring her a "gift," or that he would even come back at all.

He lifts the cup to his lips tentatively, taking one small sip. The liquid rushes across his tongue and he finds himself pleased with the flavor. Though he doesn't know what "chocolate" or "caramel" tastes like to humans, there is some charm to the bittersweet, earthy flavor that he gets from this one. He turns his gaze to the other cup she presented him with and samples it just the same. It is almost sweet enough that he is left grimacing as he hastily pushes it aside.

Akira observes his reaction and jots down something on a notepad—just like the one she had been toting around the last time he was here. "So you prefer mocha to the caramel," she mutters to herself. "This is kind of exciting actually..."

The words "mocha" and "caramel" hardly mean anything to him, but he does continue nursing his favored drink.

"You probably won't like chocolate. But then again, people who don't like some sweet things do like others..." She taps her pen against the base of her chin, mulling it over. Occasionally she tilts her head from side to side, as though weighing the options.

There is a noticeable lack of a small, bubbly child, which he only notices once he starts peering around the kitchen.

"She's at the park again," Akira answers his silent question without even looking up from her notes. It's as though she can read his curiosity without even peering over at him. Then suddenly she gazes up at him with those warm doe eyes, a smile teasing at the edges of her lips. "You're wearing the headband, huh?"

Instinctively he lifts his hand to his forehead, his fingers coming into contact with the jagged metal band that is holding his bangs in place. He had forgotten about it until she mentioned it, but although he had debated tossing it at first, it does do the job properly.

"Sorry about last time... my reaction was a little extreme."

His brow quirks.

"The kiss," she explains as though he doesn't understand. Akira sets her notepad down and averts her eyes for a moment. "It was childish of me to get worked up about it."

It was something that he had done on impulse at the time, and he had acted on it with the intention of observing what kind of reaction he would get. Since then he had wavered between mildly disgusted that he had gotten _that_ close to a human, to a strange sense of lingering curiosity.

There is just something about her. She is not beautiful—not in any traditional sense of the word at least. But the way her cheeks dimple when she smiles, the way she gets excited when discussing ghouls, to that melancholic expression she wore when she firmly told him that she held no sympathy toward him—it all serves to reel him in. Akira is as infuriating as she is fascinating.

The sudden lapse of silence is ended when she claps her hands together suddenly. "Ah! That's right, the other day I went into the bookstore and bought a bunch of books on ghouls. But considering they're written by humans, I'm not sure how accurate they are..."

He sinks back in his chair, a little unimpressed with her boundless curiosity.

"... so I started jotting down some questions that popped up and—"

"Is it that fun reading about us?" There is a hint of disinterest in his voice as he tilts his coffee cup, swirling the small amount of liquid still remaining.

Her forehead wrinkles as she seriously considers his question, albeit a bit confused at the abruptness of its asking. "Well, yes, it is." Then her face drops. "I guess it's probably odd to you since you aren't interested in humans."

"Humans are boring." He retracts his hand from his cup, dropping it into his lap. Then he cocks his head back and says, "But there is one completely nuts human that might be a little interesting."

She cracks a grin at him but makes no mention of it being any sort of compliment. Instead she reaches across the table and takes his cup. "I can make you some more coffee if you want. Or are you planning on leaving soon?"

"I might leave... or I might stay." He shrugs his shoulders as though he's undecided.

"Alright, more coffee it is."


	6. six

**Author's Note:** A slightly belated happy New Years to everyone! The holidays are kind of exciting, but they always seem to go by so quickly and then school is already about to start again...

My babbling aside, thank you so much for the lovely reviews on the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one!

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><p><strong>chapter six<strong>

"Ayato-nii... Ayato-nii...!" Plump little fingers are grasping at his shoulder, giving a sharp tug back-and-forth in a futile attempt to rouse him from his slumber. When he bats her hands away and nuzzles closer to the inside of the couch, his back facing her, she decides that it's time to take drastic measures. "Aki-nee is in biiiiiiiiiiiiig trouble!" For maximum effect she leans close to his ear as she conveys her message, a hint of urgency in contained in her raspy voice.

Almost immediately his eyes snap open, and he's bolt upright with a menacing look on his face as he turns his gaze toward her. Even Hotaru has to reel back in surprise at how murderous his gaze is. "What happened?" His tone is grave—threatening.

"S-she has a cold!" Hotaru squeaks out, holding her hands up in surrender as though she has been caught redhanded in the middle of one of her pranks.

There is an audible sigh as he runs his fingers through his hair, trying to comb his bangs back. He must have misplaced the headband that Akira gave him. "Stupid kid. Why are you bothering me over something like that? Buzz off."

"But she's really sick! She could die!"

Those words actually give him pause for a moment, if only because the two of them are ghouls and neither really understand the gravity or severity of human illness. They certainly are fragile creatures, prone to wilting under the slightest of pressure. Suddenly the situation seems far more dire than he had given it credit for.

"What's wrong with her?"

At this question, Hotaru is equally puzzled and almost pouts when she comes up empty-handed for a real explanation. "Um... she won't come out of her room... so she hasn't eaten anything. And it's already noon! That's really weird!"

Those are incredibly vague "symptoms." He cracks his neck before finally lifting himself from the couch. "That doesn't tell me anything." Intent on investigating the matter himself, he strides down the hallway with the child in tow, headed straight for Akira's bedroom. When they arrive, he's shocked to find that the knob doesn't give way when he tries to turn it. Has she honestly locked them out?

His eye twitches. "The fuck..." Ayato takes a few steps back, intending to lift his foot to kick the door in.

"I have the key!" Hotaru announces triumphantly, her ashy eyes alight with childish candor.

Without missing a beat, he swipes it from her and inserts it roughly. The child grimaces as she watches him clumsily force the door open at last. The interior is bathed in darkness with the drapes drawn shut. There is an echo of a cough but that's the only greeting they get as they venture in.

There is a lump on the mattress in the middle of the room, which seems to shift with the sound of intruders. A head of messy tangled hair pops out, and at last they have caught sight of Akira, her cheeks flushed bright red. "You two..." she calls out to them, breathless.

"I think she might be angry with us," Hotaru observes in a whisper that only Ayato can hear.

Far less fussed about whether or not the human displays any irritation at his actions, he wanders closer and examines her face from several different angles. Despite the coloration to her cheeks, the sound of her breathing is labored and uneven. The look in her eyes is distant and unfocused. Perspiration is dripping down from her hairline, covering her forehead in a thick sheath of sweat.

"See?! She _is_ dying!"

"I'm not dying," Akira answers hoarsely, pausing to cough again. "I'm just sick." There is a nasal quality to her voice that wasn't present previously and it's almost grating on his ears.

"We have to fix her," Hotaru explains with a determined expression. "I've seen them do it on television! Sick people have to go to a doctor!"

"...I don't need to go to a doctor..." Her words are punctuated by a cough again.

Annoyed at her caretaker's stubbornness, Hotaru seizes the hem of Ayato's jacket and tugs on it. "Please, Ayato-nii, you have to help her!"

"I just need to rest," Akira says impatiently, pulling the duvet over her head again.

It stands to reason that a human should know how best to handle their own affairs. So despite his younger counterpart's desperate plea, he shrugs her hand off. "If that's what she says, it has nothing to do with us."

The small child seems disappointed with his decision. Her cheeks inflate with air as she clenches her hands into tight fists at her side. "Fine! If you won't help then I'll go get the other onii-chan to help me fix Aki-nee!" She marches right past him, heading for the door.

There is only one person she can mean when she mentions "the other onii-chan," and he immediately seizes her by the shoulder. "Don't go to other people for help. If you want to fix things then do it yourself."

"But I don't know how!" Tears well up in the corners of her eyes and she tries desperately to fight them back, clearly frustrated by her own inability to do anything. "I... don't know how to do anything."

"Hotaru," Akira's voice calls out, muffled by the blanket separating them. "If you want to help... go to the store and get me some cold medicine. You can get some money out of my wallet." Another cough, and then her finger darts out from beneath the comforter, pointing toward her bedside table. "Ask the auntie next door to go with you."

The little girl perks up immediately and races over to the table, digging through the wallet to retrieve a few bills that she then hastily stuffs into her pocket. "O-okay! First Auntie and then medicine," she says with a look of determination, as though she's about to embark on an important mission. "I'll come back with your cold medicine, I promise!"

Having sworn to complete her "mission," she takes off running down the hallway, nearly stumbling along the way. Once her footsteps have receded, Ayato turns his gaze back to the lump under the blanket. A part of him wonders if he shouldn't have accompanied the child himself, rather than entrusting another human to do it.

"I'm not going to die."

That statement catches his attention, and he realizes she's peeking out from underneath the blanket again, looking positively miserable. "Are you sure? I could help you along."

She cracks a smile at him. "Would you eat me if I died?"

"I doubt you would taste good."

That honest assessment elicits a strangled laugh that turns into a coughing fit. Somehow he finds the pained expression on her face highly uncomfortable. And soon she is sinking behind the safety of her duvet, her lashes fluttering closed.

Silence settles between them, and he takes the opportunity to approach a little closer. Now that his knees are bumping against the mattress and he's hovering over her, he can see the gradual rise and fall of her chest as she lies there, wrapped like a burrito in her blanket. Her bangs are in disarray, pasted against her forehead by the sweat.

"Could... you put your hand on my forehead...?"

The request strikes him as odd, and he tilts his head as he observes her wishes, gently resting his palm against her forehead. It almost startles him to feel the heat emanating from her face.

"Ah... that feels nice..."

He blinks slowly. "Why?"

"Because... your hands are cold."

"The cold helps?"

"Yeah..." Her expression starts to relax into a natural smile, and he remains with his hand positioned against her forehead until her breathing gradually slows. It is then that Ayato knows that she must have fallen back asleep.

Cautiously he lifts his hand away, flinching when she starts to moan in her sleep. He wonders if he hasn't roused her by moving, but just as quickly she seems to settle down and he's able to slink out the door. Once he is out in the hallway, he stares down at his hand with a look of wonderment.

Somewhere in the midst of all of this, he has come up with an idea of his own. It takes some digging through her freezer before he can recover it, but he soon returns to her room with an icepack wrapped in a towel. Some part of him second guesses doing this because he knows humans get cold easily, but he eventually marches into her room and almost plunks it down on her forehead with a certain arrogant confidence in his decision.

Then he stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, looking displeased as he watches her. Every little grimace on her face makes him lean just an inch closer, his eyes set wide as he examines the result of his little "experiment." There should be some negative reaction if it is too cold, he reasons.

Much to his relief, she retains a peaceful expression while she sleeps. Those chapped lips are just slightly parted, and there is a brief movement underneath her eyelids but she looks serene despite how flushed her cheeks are.

Some time later he hears the front door crack open, followed by a symphony of noisy footsteps stumbling down the hallway before screeching to a halt at the doorway. Hotaru is sweating profusely and nearly out of breath as she lurches in, holding up a bag in her hand.

Ayato seizes it from her, realizing that she is in no condition to administer the medicine. Although frankly he has never done it himself. He tears the back open and pulls out a small box. There is writing on the back; an advisory about how much a person should have and how often. He reads it carefully before sending Hotaru to fetch a glass of water.

"You really know what you're doing, Ayato-nii," she lauds him with a look of awe when she returns, watching intently as he shakes Akira to wake her.

The icepack falls to the side as she slowly lifts herself upright, obediently taking the pill without thinking twice about what he's giving her. Almost as soon as she is done she mutters, "Thanks," and ducks behind her blanket once more to fall back asleep.

He repositions the icepack on her forehead, and she gives a grateful smile before closing her eyes.

"She still hasn't eaten," Hotaru says worriedly. "Maybe I should go get the other onii-san after all."

Ayato catches her by the shoulder before she can make it two steps. "We can make something ourselves," he says with a sneer, not pleased about allowing someone else into the house. "She's our human."

"Our... human...?" The possessive claim seems foreign to Hotaru, but soon enough she's grinning up at him. "So you _do_ like Akira-nee!"

Such an implication hadn't even occurred to him, and his expression quickly sours as he realizes it. "I don't hate her," he allows somewhat begrudgingly, giving the kid a solid shove between the shoulders to send her flying forward—nearly causing her to slam into half-closed door. "Stop wasting time and let's make something already."

"What are we going to make?" Hotaru struts into the kitchen with her hands on her hips as though she is determined to accomplish something that few ghouls before her have been successful at—making human food that is actually edible.

Ayato feels far less enthused about this project, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket as he stands there looking around. He hasn't the first clue as to how to go about constructing a meal for a human, let alone a sick one. But he'll be damned if he's going to let someone else waltz in here and do it while he's here.

Seeming to catch on to just how oblivious he is, Hotaru volunteers what she knows about making food for someone who is sick. "When we had a sick neighbor before, Aki-nee made them what she called 'soup.' It's this kind of dark looking liquid stuff that has—"

"I know what soup is," he says irritably. There were several times in his youth that he was forced to consume human food because of his father. He's not entirely oblivious.

The two of them set to work with "soup" as their endgoal. They scavenge the cabinets for ingredients—although they frankly have no idea where to begin making soup. The only thing they really know is that it has a liquid base. This brings about the idea that they should first set about boiling water.

"What do we put in it?"

That is a question that Ayato has no really knowledge with which to answer.

"Ah! Maybe vegetables! They're supposed to be healthy for humans!"

"Of course," he says, clicking his tongue as though he's disappointed at how long it took her to come up with that as an answer. Hotaru only scowls at him, now quite fully aware that he's even more lost in this process than she is.

Throwing in whole sticks of celery, leaks, onions and potatoes turns their concoction into a decidedly different kind of food than they had sought from the onset. "It doesn't really look like a soup," the little girl observes glumly. It hasn't even occurred to either of them that perhaps the vegetables should have been chopped up.

"What a waste of time." The older ghoul is growing rather impatient with their lack of progress, and just as it appears that he is about to abandon it and walk out of the kitchen, he is caught by the hem of his jacket.

"Don't give up," his younger part tells him encouragingly. "Think about how happy Aki-nee will be if we give her something that we made! She always smiles when I give her things."

That's true. She did smile when he gave her the coffee too. But if Ayato knows one thing about human cuisine, it's that this _thing_ they have cooking in this pot is not the least bit edible to a human. He is at least _that_ knowledgeable. "Oi... don't humans have those places where they can order food from?"

"Oh! That's called 'takeout.'"

"Yeah, whatever. I don't care what it's called. Let's get that."

"But we're not really making it ourselves," Hotaru protests with a pout, her bottom lip protruding as she crosses her arms firmly over her chest.

"If you think that," he points to the pot, "will make her happy, then you give her that. I'll get her something she can actually eat." As soon as he has issued his challenge, he starts out of the kitchen with Hotaru on his heels in an instant.

"I'm coming with you! You don't even know the things that Aki-nee likes!"

"Yeah, whatever."


	7. seven

**Author's Note:** Whoa! Thank you guys so much for all the amazing reviews. All of the comments make me happy, especially when some of you analyze what's going on - there's a lot of symbolism to be caught if you're reading close! (Especially in this chapter...) Anyways, to convey my gratitude, I wanted to try hurry and post this earlier than usual. I hope you guys enjoy the new chapter.

Just one thing I want to mention to everyone before the next chapter:

**Warning - ** The rating for this story will probably be changed to M when the next chapter is released. I don't want to spoil by saying why, though I'm sure it's easy enough to guess. Further warning will be posted in the author's note of the next chapter.

**TenraiTsukiyomi - **Thank you so much! I really appreciate the input on Ayato. I always fret about how in character the canon characters are, so it's a relief that you feel like he's in character. It's fine to be a fan without completing the series. I first started into fanfiction writing without ever completing what I was writing about. Now I'm a bit more perfectionist than that, but there's never any pressure for you to do so, in my opinion! Glad you're enjoying what you've seen of it!

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><p><strong>chapter seven<strong>

"I want to hear a love story this time!"

"A love story?"

There is a giggle from within the room. He peeks in briefly around the corner but decides against entering. This must be their nightly ritual when Akira is putting Hotaru to bed, and he has no intention of impeding on their moment together. So instead he waits and listens quietly.

"Yeah. Don't you know any, Aki-nee?"

There is a pause. "Well, I do know quite a few actually. What kind of love story do you want to hear?"

The rustle of blankets seems to signal that the small child is eagerly sitting up in bed. "Um, actually... I was wondering, Aki-nee..." Her voice trails off for a moment, and Ayato is certain that in the short week and a half that he has known these two, it's the first time he has ever heard Hotaru sound so uncertain when speaking with Akira. "Are there any love stories with ghouls and humans?"

The question is quite jarring for Ayato who doesn't expect it at all, and his head almost instinctively jerks to the side as he peeks into the room. Even he is curious as to what kind of answer Akira could possibly give in this situation.

"Well..." she hesitates, "I do. I have a story that fits that."

"R-really?! Okay! I want to hear it then!"

If it's a children's story then it has to be painfully sweet and corny, Ayato reasons. But is Akira really going to fill the kid's head with fairy tales?

"A couple of years ago there was a female ghoul living around this area. She had been separated from her family, so she felt really lonely." The story is off to an almost painfully realistic start so far. Ayato nods approvingly to himself. "This ghoul was kind of unfriendly—she didn't really trust people. Especially humans."

"Even humans? Why?"

"Because she blamed them for losing her family."

There is a brief moment of silence as Hotaru internalizes this. "But... not all humans are bad people. You're a good person, Aki-nee. And I really like Ryuuji down the street, too! We play together all the time at the park, and he's nice to me!"

Akira chuckles merrily at the child's sincere protest. "That's right," she agrees. "She was a really close-minded person. In fact, she didn't really leave her house very much and the people in the area were starting to think she was some kind of a recluse. But there was a really nice man in the neighborhood living with his little sister, and he came to visit her."

"Did he bring a gift? You said people always bring gifts when they visit!"

"That's right. He brought her a basket of fruit."

That answer elicits howling laughter from Hotaru who seems to think this is the most ridiculous gift ever. "Why would he bring something like that! He's so silly. She can't eat the fruit!"

The older woman giggles right along with her younger counterpart. "That's right. It wasn't a very helpful gift, and the ghoul woman wasn't very enthusiastic about receiving it. So he left that day with a rather bitter first encounter."

"How are they ever going to fall in love?"

"Be patient, let me tell the story."

Hotaru expels an impatient sigh but soon falls quiet, apparently waiting for the story to continue.

"See the man was a very kind and generous person, so he came back the next day with another gift. This time it was flowers, and she felt really odd receiving them from him."

"What kind of flowers?"

Ayato merely shakes his head as he listens in on the whole tale. Hotaru's periodic interjections are always leading it off-track as she begs for unnecessary details. Yet just as quickly, Akira is able to produce answers without any pondering, as though this isn't some figment of her imagination and she's really recounting some reality that she is aware of.

"... so the fifth time, she finally let him come into her house. Since ghouls can have coffee, she offered him some."

This is the point where he expects another inquiry to crop up, but there is only silence. He realizes that it must be because Hotaru has already drifted off to sleep, because he soon hears the sound of Akira's light footsteps padding across the floor. When he peeks around the corner, he sees her heading in his direction—and the moment she spots him, she flashes a warm smile at him.

As she exits the room, Akira is careful to close the door quietly behind her. Once that is finished, she immediately spins around to face him. "Want some coffee?"

He cocks his head. "I'll drink it."

"Then I'll take that as a yes."

It occurs to him that he has fallen into a strange pattern of going out at odd hours and using Akira's house as a sort of base of operations. This does indirectly put them in some danger, should he ever be tracked—although considering how careful he is about dispatching the investigators in the area, the odds of discovery are too low for him to spare a thought for.

He has decided to consider Akira's house a convenient place to return. It's close enough to the border between wards that he can move with ease to wherever he wants to go. At least that's how he decides to rationalize his decision to loaf about here constantly.

For her part, Akira has never made mention of him being unwelcome. On the contrary, she seems happy for his company and even more eager to shower him with questions regarding ghouls.

Soon enough the two of them are settled opposite of each other with a table between them, two steaming hot cups of coffee sitting before them. She is the first to taste hers, giving a nod of appreciation after she has swallowed her brief sip.

"The chocolate flavor is really good."

Too sweet, he thinks—she made him try it a few days ago. He's more partial to this mocha flavor she made for him the first time.

"You overheard part of the story, I take it?"

He shrugs. "A bit."

Rather than peer over at him, she keeps her warm brown eyes focused on the teacup in her hand. "What did you think?" Her voice is unreadable, but he suspects she must be genuinely curious to even ask such a question.

"You didn't pull it out of nowhere. It's based on something."

"That's right." Her lips tease into a smile as she glances up at him briefly before turning her head down again. "Some of the details are changed, but it's based on my own experiences."

"You fell in love with a ghoul?" he asks, incredulous.

Rather than laugh it off, she tilts her head from side to side. "Well, no. I'm not the one who fell in love with a ghoul. I do love a ghoul now, though. I guess I'm being a bit disingenuous, huh? But I really don't know any happy stories about ghouls and humans falling in love. Then again, I don't even really know any about two ghouls falling in love." As soon as she has spoken, she takes a drink of her coffee as though to wash down her own bitterness.

Ayato keeps his lips pursed, silently watching her the whole time.

"Do you think... a human and a ghoul _can_ fall in love?" Almost as soon as she asks him, she breaks into a dry chuckle and waves her hand dismissively. "Never mind, that's a stupid question."

Yet rather than allow her to wave it off, he answers honestly, "No. I don't."

That seems to be the response she is expecting because she nods knowingly. "Of course not."

"Humans always betray ghouls eventually." He speaks candidly, not even attempting to hide his own cynicism about the matter. Ayato feels particularly strong about humans, but even stronger about relationships between the two.

"I think... you're misunderstanding something." Akira leans back and faces him earnestly. "People betray people all the time. It's in their nature. I'm not trying to sound pessimistic, but if a human betrays a ghoul then I think that person isn't trustworthy in general."

That's her usual spiel about there being no divide between humans and ghouls, that everyone is an "individual." Ayato isn't nearly as convinced as she is that this is true. "You only think that because you're an exception to the rule."

That remark seems to catch her by genuine surprise. "You think I'm an exception?"

"You haven't betrayed Hotaru in two years." Although whether she will eventually or not remains to be seen. The fact is that the way Akira is, she would sooner fight to her own bitter end to protect Hotaru than turn on her at the first sign of trouble.

Her lips tighten into a thin line. "You and I see the world very differently. Even so, I'm actually a little happy to be acknowledged. I hope... I hope that you're wrong. I hope that some day, Hotaru can find someone that will accept her—ghoul or human—and that they'll love her as much or more than I do."

The clock on the opposing wall ticks away the time in the silence that falls between them after she makes that statement. Ayato has nothing to say in return, and now that his coffee has cooled, he hastily drains the cup dry before standing.

"Are you leaving?"

He pulls the black rabbit's mask over his face. "Yeah." Ayato double-checks to make sure it fits snuggly before he turns to start toward the hallway. Just as soon as he begins to leave, he hears the sound of Akira following after him.

Never once has she asked him where he goes or what he does. It's as though she implicitly understands based on what happened the first night they met, and he suspects that's the reason she has never mentioned it. Maybe she considers him one of the "bad" ghouls, since he kills humans.

Once they arrive at the front entrance and he has secured his shoes on his feet, Akira suddenly holds out something toward him. "I bought one from the shrine earlier. It's a protection charm. So you can return safely."

Although such human superstition is lost on Ayato, he readily accepts her gift. For a moment he studies it, peering out through the holes in his mask. "Return safely?" he echoes her words with a curious tone to his voice.

"I thought you might think of this as a sort of second home since you'd been hanging around here a lot lately. Was I wrong?"

He tucks the charm into one of his inside pockets. "Not wrong," he allows. "I don't have anywhere I call home."

Despite the finality of his statement, she reaches out and grabs his wrist, taking Ayato by surprise. Those freckle-covered cheeks dimple as she grins at him. "Home should be somewhere you can always go and feel safe. Hotaru and I can be that for you, if you want. You're always welcome here."

He recoils, pulling out of her grip. "Why?"

"Because I also know what it's like to not have a home anymore."

It's not normal for any person to be this nice, least of all a human. Especially when she should be perfectly aware of what _kind_ of ghoul he is. Offering him such comfort is naive. He could turn on her and eat her tomorrow if he really wanted to. "I'm leaving."

"Be sure to come back soon." She gives a small wave as he turns away with the flutter of his long jacket, disappearing out the door.

—

"... so she told him that she was a ghoul?!"

The next night he finds himself eavesdropping on the tale outside of Hotaru's door. This time he sinks down to the floor and sits as he listens, peering down at his own hands. There is dried blood underneath his fingernails. He quickly curls his fingers into fists as though to hide the sight.

"Yeah," Akira answers, satisfied that the climax of her story has been so well-received. "Since they had spent so long together, she thought it was time that she was honest with him. But she could only do it because she really, really trusted him."

"How did he react?"

"Well..." A pause. "He was... surprised. It was hard for him to accept at first, because he'd believed for so long that she was human."

"Well that's silly. Whether she is human or not, she is the same person. That never changed."

"That's right," Akira responds in a soft voice. "You're exactly right, Hotaru. Like the ghoul woman that was once close-minded, he was close-minded, too. He had a hard time reconciling all the things he had ever heard about ghouls. Eventually, though, he came back and told her exactly what you just said. That nothing would change just because she was a ghoul."

"Good! That's how it should be. Did they live happily ever after then?"

Ayato stares emptily at the opposing wall as he listens. He wants to answer that no, there are never happy endings—especially where ghouls are concerned. Yet he suspects Akira will take a very different approach to the question.

"No, they didn't."

His eyes widen.

"Why not?" That's the same question he wants to ask, not because he's in disbelief but because he didn't expect Akira to answer negatively.

"He loved her and she loved him, that's absolutely true. But the world isn't as accepting of ghouls and humans intermingingly. You know I've warned you about investigators, right? That's why you have to always be very, very careful. Hopefully some day we can make this a world where their kind of love will be welcome."

That answer is sobering, like a bitter pill called reality. Even Ayato has to feel some appreciation that Akira didn't sugarcoat it. Eventually Hotaru is going to have to come to the realization that though she is loved by a human, not all humans will love her. Some will spurn and resent her—not because she is a "bad person," but because she was born a ghoul.

"I want to be like her," Hotaru announces suddenly. "But I want to live happily ever after. Do... you think my mommy would be disappointed...?"

"If you were with a human?"

"...yeah."

Thoughtful silence and then Akira says, "I think your mom just wanted you to be happy. So no matter how you get your happily ever after, I don't think she will be disappointed at all. In fact, I'm sure she's proud of you right now. You're getting prettier every day, you're so smart, and you're always good about following rules."

"Of course! My mommy taught me that much."

It's the first time he has heard Hotaru ever mention her mother. The subject seemed almost taboo before. Neither her nor Akira had brought mention of it before. But he is gradually beginning to understand what Akira meant when she said that Hotaru is her hope for the future.

Before he realizes it, a shadow falls over him. "Were you waiting?"

"Not exactly," Ayato answers gruffly as he stands, dusting himself off.

"Coffee?"

"...fine."


End file.
